Ahki
by DoctorNicotine
Summary: After Al-Mualim's death, Altair and Malik are lost and confused about what will happen to the Brotherhood. Will they find solace in each other, or will they return to sarcastic, snide comments? Even the author doesn't know for sure... Slash Malik/Altair


Altair walked swiftly through the stone halls of Masyaf, his feet padding roughly on the cold floor. His head turned back and forth, searching for a familiar blue robe. He needed the calm head of a dai after what he had just experienced.

He shook his head brusquely and began to jog, jumping down a flight of stairs and slamming into an unsuspecting novice. Altair grabbed his hood, partly to insure he didn't fall, partly to make sure he didn't run away.

"Novice. Where is the dai Malik?"

The shocked boy gaped at the assassin's harsh face. His mouth moved as if to speak, but no sounds fell from his lips. Altair growled and released the back of his hood, throwing the novice back a few steps.

"Do you know where dai Malik is or not?"

Stuttering, the young man answered, "He is in the library M-master. At Al-Mualim's d-desk. Shall I bring him h-here Master Altair?"

Altair felt his heart begin to slow slightly at this information.

"No novice. Go to your teacher and await instructions from him." His face softened and he patted the young man's shoulder before turning and jogging back up the stairs.

"Dai Malik, Master Altair is here-"

The librarian couldn't finish before Altair shoved him out of his way. Malik sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Thank you for bringing him Yamin. Go back to your duties."

Yamin nodded respectfully to Malik, glaring at Altair out of the corner of his remaining eye.

"Malik, I-" Altair began, interrupted by the dai's raised finger in his face, prompting him to fall silent. Malik continued to leaf through sheets of paper stacked haphazardly on the large wooded desk, acting as if the other assassin wasn't even there. Altair lasted all of fifteen seconds of the sound of paper rustling before he tried again.

"I nee-"

"Be quiet! I'm busy."

Malik put the papers down and selected a smooth leather-bound notebook. He rubbed his fingers over the dark shine of a lock which prevented him from seeing its contents.

"You did not need to burn his body."

Altair jerked his head up, the force of it throwing his hood back onto his shoulders. Malik's back was turned towards him, and Altair could only guess what his expression may have been.

"I had to make sure. He is… was more cunning than I am."

Malik finally turned. "The men are already confused and feeling betrayed. Now they doubt everything that comes their way. You have instilled distrust in all the assassins."

"Allow me to at least justify my actions!"

Malik shook his head slowly. "You have no need to justify yourself to me, I stand by your choice."

Both men's expressions melted for a moment as they faced each other. Malik's face shadowed suddenly again.

"But that doesn't mean the others will though. You have defied our religion, which will make many brothers fear that you have abandoned it."

Altair bristled at the accusation. Malik watched him thoughtfully.

"Think over what you have done." He turned back to Al-Mualim's desk.

Altair scowled, feeling like Malik was scolding him as if he were a child. Malik looked over his shoulder. "Don't look at me that way, _novice_."

Altair took a step forward. "Don't call me that. I came here searching for reassurance that my actions were for the best. I did not come to be accused and insulted. I do not need to prove my actions to you!" His anger at Al-Mualim's betrayal flooded out all other emotions. Malik bowed his head and gripped the desk with his remaining hand. Altair continued, "Do you not think that I feel guilty? That I sense our brother's misdirected hatred towards me? Our master was like a father to me, I feel more pain over his death than most, and there is no need to multiply that sorrow by insulting me!"

Altair's eyes stung, and more than one time he heard his voice break and stutter. He clenched his right fist tightly, wanting more than anything to just run. Run away from everything at Masyaf and hide.

"He was like a father to all of us Altair. That is what a brotherhood is about, to trust your leader as you would your own father. He meant so much to so many people…" the dai turned around and walked a few steps closer to Altair, his face contorted with agony. "Remember that you are not alone in your suffering." Malik wrapped his arm around Altair in an embrace. "You are one of us Ahki, and there will always to someone to share your burden."

Altair melted into Malik's arm, exhaustion flooding over him, and he used Malik as a crutch. Silent tears fell from his cheeks, splashing onto Malik's shoulders. Altair saw this and pushed himself away from the other man; wiping his eyes and pulling his hood back up in the same movement. Malik chuckled and moved a thumb across the assassin's cheek as he scowled.

"Do not be ashamed brother. I will not think you weak because you chose to show emotion."

Malik took a step back and Altair wished he could reach out and pull him closer once more. He missed the feeling of the strong hand on his back, holding them tightly against each other.

"Go, sleep." Malik nodded. "I have more work to do here." He exhaled deeply as a shaking novice came and light the lamps surrounding Al-Mualim's desk.

Altair watched him sit at the table, his face warped by the lamp light. He stayed and continued to observe the dai for a few more moments, before walking away and melting into the shadows.


End file.
